


Retrospect

by wheresmyfroggy



Category: Django Unchained (2012)
Genre: Gen, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-23
Updated: 2013-02-23
Packaged: 2017-12-03 07:39:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/695858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheresmyfroggy/pseuds/wheresmyfroggy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Schultz and Django run into some trouble trying to collect a bounty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Retrospect

**Author's Note:**

  * For [geniusbee](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=geniusbee).



> Written for GeniusBee's request for Dr. King Schultz whump.
> 
> Completely unbeta'd, all mistakes are my own.

In retrospect, he really should have known better. The winter had just been going so well- Django was a fast learner and their collection of bounties had rapidly accumulated. Schultz was not usually so quick to trust strangers, but he and Django shared such an innate understanding that came so easily he barely gave it a second thought. He took no notice when this trust started to bleed into his interactions with others. So, when an informant sent word to him of the location of one of his bounties, he made a mistake he would not have made a year ago. Schultz trusted.

-

Smoke poured from the chimney of the cabin. Clearly someone was inside, probably keeping warm by the fire. Which was more than could be said for Django and Schultz. The bounty hunters were on the ridge surrounding the cabin, sprawled out on their stomachs in the snow. Rifles at their sides, both held binoculars to their eyes.

“Step 7: Confirm the target’s location.”

“I don’t see nobody.”

“Anybody.”

“Huh?”

“You do not see _anybody_.”

“Them either.”

They had been waiting on the ridge for twenty minutes. Schultz knew they could wait for hours to confirm the target. He also knew it was cold and it could be them sitting by that fire in the cabin.

“Django, if you would be so kind as to circle around to the other side of the lodge. Signal me when you are in position and if I signal back, we shall simultaneously enter through the two doors and trap our friend.”

When Django didn’t move or respond, Schultz lowered his binoculars to look at his partner. Django was looking at Schultz with a puzzled expression.

“’Simultaneously’ means ‘at the same time’.”

“Right.” Django grabbed his rifle and made to stand, but Schultz put a hand on his shoulder.

“Stay out of sight.” Django nodded once in response, rolled up into a low crouch, and started working his way around the ridge. Schultz raised the binoculars to his eyes once again and, resisting the urge to keep an eye on his partner, went back to watching the cabin for signs of movement.

Schultz estimated it would take Django about ten minutes to make it to the other side of the cabin. After eight minutes he traded the binoculars for his rifle, keeping his gaze on the cabin but watching in his periphery for Django’s signal. The click of a gun being cocked behind him froze him more than the snow he was laying on.

“Now, Mr. Schultz, I want you to very slowly raise your right hand off your gun, and with your left hand I want you to toss it down the ridge there.”

Schultz considered his options, of which there were far too few. Django was likely on the exact opposite side of the ridge, too far away to help. He still had his Derringer hidden in his right sleeve, but he would not be able to turn fast enough to use it. He could-

A gunshot rang out from behind him, echoing around the ridge, followed by a sharp and intense pain in his right shoulder. Schultz cried out and let go of his rifle, bringing his left hand up to put pressure on the exit wound. Apparently, he had taken too long to comply with the man’s demand. Americans weren’t exactly known for their patience.

Breathing heavily through the pain, he barely heard the footsteps in the snow as the man approached him. When the man grabbed his right shoulder and rolled him over onto his back, away from his rifle, the pain increased ten-fold and Schultz was unable to stop the scream from escaping his lips. Blackness filled the edges of his vision as the man lowered himself to one knee, snatching up Schultz’s rifle and tossing it down the ridge. Next, he grabbed for Schultz’s right hand, wrenching it to the side as he reached into the sleeve to pull out the Derringer. Schultz gasped at the movement, but otherwise made no noise as the amount of blood seeping through his left hand increased.

“Well, Mr. Schultz, that could’ve gone a lot easier.” King’s blurry vision was clearing and he could see now that the man who shot him was Michael Corner, their bounty. Schultz flinched involuntarily as Corner reached towards him again, but the man just chuckled as he searched Schultz’s pockets. Apparently not finding what he was after, Corner turned to the bounty hunter’s pack, dumping the contents into the snow to search them. Schultz took the opportunity to press his back into the snow, grinding slowly until he felt snow begin to pack the entry wound. He growled lightly, partially from the pain and partially from sheer frustration at his situation.

His informant had clearly betrayed him and led him into a trap. But his informant didn’t know he had recently acquired a partner. He assumed Corner did not know either, and hoped he had not seen Django before he left for the other side of the ridge. He knew Django had heard the gunshot, thanks to the trees and the ridge itself containing the sound and causing it to echo loudly. King had estimated it would take ten minutes to half-circle the ridge. How long had it been since the gunshot? He couldn’t say. Best to stall Corner until his partner arrived to reverse the circumstances.

“Perhaps I could… Help you to… Locate whatever item… It is you are looking for.” His voice sounded much stronger than he felt, though he had to time his words with his labored breathing.

“I need my handbill, Mr. Schultz.”

“Doctor.”

“What?”

“Dr. Schultz.”

“Okay, _Doctor_ ,” Corner leaned forward and put his hand on top of Schultz’s left, which was still pressed to his exit wound. He didn’t apply pressure, but the threat was clear. “I need my handbill.”

“I am sure you… Are aware that is… Not the only copy… Taking it will… Do you no good.”

Corner smirked, and slowly started shifting his weight forward onto Shultz’s wound. The bounty hunter let out a strained cry before he clamped his mouth shut and simply glared at the other man.

“I haven’t broken the law. The bounty offered for me is from a private citizen. The handbill will tell me who that citizen is. Do you understand now, _Doctor_? Will you hunt anybody simply for the money? Don’t you care if they’re innocent?”

A bark of laughter escaped Schultz’s lips at the word _innocent_. “You treated your wife like garbage for years; made her feel worthless, insignificant without you. Like she had nothing to offer the world, so she fled it. You may not have broken the law, Mr. Corner, but let us not sit here and pretend you deserve to utter the word _innocent_.”

Schultz is left gasping for breath after his hissed diatribe, but his glare did not waver from Corner’s. He could see the rage building in the other man’s eyes; could almost pinpoint the moment he snapped. Corner let out an angry bellow and raised his hand off of King’s shoulder, formed a fist, and brought it smashing back down onto Schultz’s wound. The bounty hunter’s back arched as he screamed in agony. Tears streamed down his face as he clamped his eyes shut against the pain.

Corner grabbed Schultz by the chin and wrenched his head around to face him again. “Open your eyes.” Schultz was still wheezing from the punch. He could barely hear Corner through the roaring in his ears, let alone comprehend what he was saying. Corner unholstered his pistol and put it to Schultz’s temple. “Open. Your. Eyes.”

A gunshot rang out and Schultz’s eyes flew open. Corner was staring down at him, but his eyes were losing focus. He looked down to his chest and Schultz followed his gaze. A red circle of blood in the middle of Michael Corner’s chest was rapidly spreading across the front of his coat. His grip on Schultz’s chin fell slack as he slid down into the snow, dead.

Schultz looked up as a sudden noise broke the silence, but relaxed immediately when he saw it was Django breaking cover from the trees and sprinting towards him. As soon as Django reached Schultz he knelt down and made to check his wound, but Schultz shook his head and gestured towards Corner.

“Check him.”

Django sighed but knew better than to argue. Shaking his head, Django picked up Corner’s pistol, which had fallen between the two men, and pushed him over onto his back. The man was clearly dead, but Django put a hand to his neck anyway, checking for a pulse.

“Dead,” Django said as he returned to Schultz’s side.

“Sure?”

Django gave King a look. “Positive.” He pulled a roll of bandages out of his pack and lifted Schultz’s hand away from the wound so he could start working on binding it. “You alright? I heard… I heard you screaming before I was close enough to shoot.”

Schultz hissed as Django pulled the bandage tight. “Yes. Mr. Corner wanted his handbill and when I was not the most forthcoming he decided to punch my bullet wound.” Django stopped his work at this and looked up at Schultz, glaring daggers. “You have already killed him, Django, what more could you do?”

“I could’ve let him live a while so I could punch _his_ bullet wound a few times.”

Schultz sighed in exasperation. “America is full of nothing but simpletons and barbarians, mein Gott.”

“Or,” Django continued as he finished binding the wound, “we could go give that informant of yours a proper ‘thank you’ for the tip.” Django helped Schultz to stand, put his left arm over his shoulder and started helping him walk to the horses.

“Django, my friend. You read my mind.”


End file.
